Queen of the Underworld | Book 3

• sixty-five •

//song: wicked streets- j bernardt

There was once a time where I didn't see Damien worry.

We would only laugh at our jokes and watch movies together.

But now it looked like anxiety and worry was something weighing heavily on his shoulders.

I never remembered him acting that way even when he was made King. He was always proud and strong, his chin lifted high in pride.

The Damien that led me away to his office wasn't that same Damien.

He looked like he had aged decades since we last spoke even though he still had a young appearance.

"Em." He said my name quietly as he led me to the room he had just come out of. "Please, can you stay here while I get some friends?" He signaled to a chair behind a large desk. "You can sit there if you want, I'll be very quick."

I nodded. "All right. I"ll stay."

Damien turned to leave the room but not before turning to the lion. "Mehnit, do not leave her sight."

The proud lion that had just been following gave a small nod - she nodded?- and sat down regally between me and the only door in the room as Damien stepped out.

I turned from the door and stopped when I caught my reflection.

I tsked as I ran my fingers through my brown hair to somewhat comb it. I stopped dead and grabbed fistfulls as I studied my reflection.

My hair was short?

I frowned again when I noticed I wasn't wearing my glasses but could see clearly without them. Had I fallen asleep with my contacts on? I shook my head. That was impossible.

I looked again at my features.

Something was...off.

Was it the magic that Damien had given me? My features were softer almost near-flawless. The scars and freckles that peppered my nose and cheeks were almost non-existent. I touched my neck, looking for the mark that had left such a deep bruise just a few days prior and found nothing.

I shook my head, stepping away from the mirror. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.

My eyes fell on the clothes on me. Dark leggings, dark shirt streaked with dirt and ripped beyond repair.

I shook my head. I needed a shower and to change.

I looked around the room, astonished at the amount of books and board games on the shelves. The room and woodwork of it was breathtaking, I couldn't tear my eyes away from it. I followed the etched wood with my fingers, following the carved vines in the bookshelves.

I walked behind the desk towards the chair but was distracted by the breathtaking view outside of the enormous windows. The floor in the Keep where we were was high. High enough where I could see the homes in the town below and the little children running around a fountain near the gates of the Keep.

The sight was familiar. I tried to concentrate and search for the memory.
I signed a document. I felt longing, sadness like I didn't belong.

Dark eyes watched me.

I stopped, wincing from the headache I suddenly felt. I put my hand to my forehead, frowning.

A flurry of movement and the thundering steps of a group of people approaching made me turn.

Damien was in the lead with both Kymra and Leah behind him.

They were all dressed in comfortable clothing, one that I assumed was used to lounge in with a large castle. The clothing was not at all modern but resembled more the dresses I'd seen at the renaissance festival I used to enjoy visiting. The fae fabric seemed to change color the more I looked at it. I knew I wouldn't find that in any regular store back home.